And there stands my Professor
Teaching out of his vein-fed passion
His infotainment lecture
Engulfing the attention
Of even the active bug
In the hall, where I seem to be
The contradictory one!
The pressure in his vocals
His ignorance of the spit of saliva,
Out of too much dedication
With ultimate preparation
Which I could describe
About the intensity of his oration.
On the other hand,
There am I, sitting,
Trying to figure out what the title of
His speech would be,
Such a pictorial demonstration
Of a beautiful subject may be,
Yet everything seems blur
The extreme nullness
The constellation of thoughts
Drifting from the birth of mine
To the value of my existence here!
Penning this poem
Neither with any chronology
Nor with a proper theme,
Unfortunate, yet fortunate enough
To find contentedness in
Scribbling the above words
Because people do not always accompany
To hear my musings
But writing firmly accepted
This flawful writer to feel its
Intoxication during its reproduction.
Though producing futile offsprings
Yet adding a star to the beauty of the late night sky!